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So she wiped those thoughts away and focused forward. Jake turned into a quaint neighborhood, navigating the streets toward Sharon's ex-fiancé's house.
As they pulled up to a small bungalow with a neatly trimmed lawn, Fiona took a deep breath and steeled herself for the interview. They were here to find out if Sharon had any enemies, any reason someone would want her dead, and most importantly--if she somehow knew Glen Hartwell.
Jake stepped out of the car, and Fiona followed suit. They made their way up the walkway, and Jake rang the doorbell. They waited for a few moments before a man opened the door. He was tall, with closely cropped brown hair and a strong jawline, but with tired, puffy eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.
"Can I help you?" he asked, eyeing them warily.
"Mr. Duke Reynolds?" Jake asked, flashing his badge. "I'm Agent Jake Tucker with the FBI, and this is Fiona Red. We were hoping to talk to you about your ex-fiancé."
Duke's posture was immediately tense. "You want to talk about Sharon... she's dead, you know. The police told me." He laughed awkwardly. "Of course, you know, what am I saying?"
Even though Duke and Sharon had broken up, it was obvious he was torn up over her passing.
Fiona took a step forward. "We're sorry for your loss, Mr. Reynolds. We're just here to ask a few questions if that's okay."
Duke nodded, stepping aside to let them in. "Sure, come on in. I'll answer what I can."
As they entered the living room, Fiona couldn't help but notice the differences between Duke's house and Sharon's. Sharon's had been extremely orderly, but Duke's had movie posters on the walls and unkempt bookshelves. Just based on their lifestyles, Fiona could see they had stark differences. They went into the living room, where Duke gestured for them to sit on the couch while he took the loveseat.
"We're sorry for your loss, Mr. Reynolds," Jake said. "But we need to ask you a few questions about Sharon. Did she ever mention anyone who might want to harm her?"
"I mean, no," Duke said. "I know she could get up her neighbor's asses sometimes, piss off people because she could be, well... uptight. But I don't think anyone actively hated her or wanted to hurt her."
"What about Glen Hartwell?" Jake asked. "Did Sharon ever mention him?"
Duke's brow furrowed. "Glen Hartwell? I don't think so. Who's that?"
"He was the man who was found dead in his home a few days ago, under the same circumstances as Sharon," Fiona explained. "We're investigating his murder, as well as Sharon's."
Duke's eyes widened. "Murder? Do you think someone killed Sharon? The police told me she was found unconscious in her house, but they didn’t give me the specifics…”
"It does appear that way," Jake said. He took out his phone, bringing up a photo of Glen, and showed it to Duke. "You've never seen this man before?"
Duke shook his head. "No, never. He's gotta be, what, thirty years older than Sharon? I doubt she knew him."
On paper, they had no evidence that Glen and Sharon knew each other either. Sharon didn't have any other family in the city, and it seemed like Duke was their best bet on finding out who she was associating with. But he knew nothing either.
"When was the last time you talked to Sharon?" Jake asked.
"She texted me last week, said she needed to get some work done on her house. We were still friendly. The breakup was amicable, I guess."
Fiona thought about Sharon's house, how pristine it was--and how professionally done the garden appeared to be. "Did Sharon have landscapers regularly work on her garden?" Fiona asked.
Duke nodded. "Oh, yeah. She was crazy about keeping everything in tight order. She needed her house clean, her garden professionally done--the list goes on. As you can see, I'm more relaxed, so it did cause friction between us."
That made sense. But it also brought Fiona back to that wasp nest in Sharon's backyard. "Would it be like Sharon to leave a wasp nest in her backyard?" Fiona asked.
"Oh, no way," Duke said. "She said she was bringing in a pro to exterminate them. I guess she never booked it."
Fiona's heart raced as something--a memory--began to unfurl in her mind. She recalled when she was studying entomology at Harvard when they went into the topic of insecticides. Some could be applied with a spray wand--and now that Fiona thought about it, that device could fit, if crammed down someone's throat, and leave quite a bit of trauma.
Maybe it wasn't a tube that was put in Sharon's throat--but a spray wand from insecticide.
Fiona's mind raced as she tried to piece together the evidence. Could it be possible that a landscaper or exterminator had something to do with both Sharon and Glen's deaths? She looked up at Duke.
"Duke, do you happen to have any records or receipts from the exterminators that Sharon used?" Fiona asked suddenly.
Duke furrowed his brow. "I don't know; I'd have to check. I'm pretty sure it was this company called Insect Away Home."
